Senior Year
by Llmav
Summary: She wanted a distraction for her senior year. She got more than she bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N; So this is my new story. It's not the most original idea, I know that, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways. Some drama, some smut, some romance. As usual, there are probably more sex scenes than there should be, but hey, that's what I do. **

**Please let me know what you think. Even if you absolutely hate it. **

Chapter 1

The music was blasting from the large speakers, making her body move involuntarily. She enjoyed it, it was different from any other party she had ever been to. Well, this wasn't exactly a party, it was a nightclub. Trish's cousin's friend knew a guy that made believable fake IDs. She had been reluctant at first, but her best friend could be extremely persuasive. Either way, she was tired of high school parties and high school boys. Trish was ecstatic - according to her, she hadn't yet experienced the best that life had to offer. Namely, older guys. And their skills in the bedroom. It was their last weekend of freedom, as they were about to start their last semester of their senior year. She couldn't wait to get out of there, start college in the fall and meet new people.

She was wearing a black, tight dress, something that she had thought was fairly slutty, but was nothing compared to some of the assembles she saw around the packed room. Or rather, lack of assembles. Shit, some people were practically naked. Her heels were already killing her. But it was worth it - they made her legs look amazing and her ass fantastic. At least that's what Trish said.

He had seen her when she walked in. His body had reacted to her before his mind had even had the time to register her. She looked innocent but something told him she was anything but. Now, she was on the dance floor. Her brown curls were bouncing with her movements. She wasn't the best dancer, but the way she moved made him suspect that she would be amazing in bed. Shit, he had just caught sight of her a minute ago and he had already pictured her naked in a number of situations. And positions. All involving various body parts of his. In hers.

Her eyes met his, her smiling slightly but not necessarily invitingly. Why did he get the feeling that she had never been to a place like this before? He noticed most other men in the room were eyeing her as well and without any legitimate reason, he was mad. Something about her brought out his protectiveness and he hadn't even talked to her yet. Not that talking was what he wanted to do. There were other things involving their mouths that he would much rather prefer.  
She had noticed him immediately, as only a blind person would be oblivious to his presence. He oozed sex and confidence. She knew some of the boys at her school considered her hot, but this was a different league - this man could have any woman at the club that he wanted. Surely, he was not going to be interested in felt her heart beat out of her chest as their eyes met. Crap. All of a sudden, all the other men at the club were uninteresting. She only wanted him.

He followed her with his gaze as she left the dance floor and approached the bar.

She had lost Trish somewhere in the crowd, but wasn't overly concerned. Her friend knew how to take care of herself.

The bartender handed her a shot, signaling that it was from the dark-haired man from the other side of the counter. She hesitated but accepted, nodding at the man in thanks before swallowing down, then grimacing at the burning sensation that hit her throat. 'Has no one never told you not to accept drinks from strangers?' She turned around and was met by brown, smoldering eyes below blonde, messy hair. 'They have', she smiled 'but if I always listened to what people tell me, I would never have any fun.' Why did he feel himself harden further upon hearing her voice? Automatically, his mind raced, creating scenarios where said voice would be screaming, panting, shouting his name. 'Well', he continued, 'if I introduce myself, I guess we're technically not strangers anymore and I can get you another drink'. She gave him a shy smile. Her combination of innocence and seductiveness drove him wild. 'I'm Ally'. She extended her petite hand. He took it, his hand surpassing hers in size by far. Heck, his hands could probably fit around her waist. She was so petite, almost fragile and incredibly sexy. 'Austin' he croaked, his voice broken and she smirked. Guess pretending to be unaffected by her was out the window. Subtlety had never been his strong suit, anyway. 'Nice to meet you, Austin'. Was it his imagination, or did she roll his name of her tongue as if it was a delicacy? 'Now, how about that drink?' He signaled to the bartender and two drinks quickly appeared in front of them. He caught a murderous stare from the man who had bought her the first shot. He didn't blame him - he would have been mad, too, if he had lost his chance with the enchantress in front of him. Especially since she was currently batting her eyes at him, clearly in the mood to play.

She couldn't believe that she was flirting with him and loving it. He seemed to enjoy it as well as he was practically undressing her with his eyes.

A few drinks later, heavy flirtation included, he made the first move, lightly gracing her neck with his lips, breathing in her intoxicating scent while kissing her sensitive skin. She moaned in his ear and he used every ounce of self-control not to rip that ridiculous excuse for a dress off of her body. He moved to her lips, lightly licking each of them before using his tongue to ply them apart. Her tongue met his instantly, her hand in his hair, pulling and scratching his scalp as their tongues danced together.

Fifteen minutes of making out, and he couldn't restrain himself any longer. 'My place or yours?' She held in a giggle at the thought of bringing this exemplar of a man home to her pink colored girl room, fucking him hard while Lester was sleeping next door. Not an option. 'Yours' she decided and he smirked. 'Perfect, it's within walking distance'.  
They had made it a few blocks before he had her propped against the wall of some building, his hands running all over her body, turning her on like never before. She would have let him take her right there if he had wanted to. He broke away, panting hard and grabbing her hand, setting a fast pace for the last block before entering his apartment complex and soon to follow, his apartment.

He undressed her on the way to his bed, kissing and licking every part of her exposed skin along the way. He unhooked her bra, sucking in her nipples, hardening them and then quickly undressing himself as they entered his room. He bent her over his bed, on her stomach with her legs dangling off of it. That ass. He stood behind her, spreading her legs but not even touching her pussy before slowly sliding his dick into her, as he was confident enough to know that she would be soaking wet. She gasped out loud as he entered her, pushing himself all the way in inch by inch until he filled her to a hilt. He started slowly, knowing that she might need some time to adjust, but she grunted impatiently and he didn't need to be asked twice. He quickened his pace, gradually, as he was experiencing her amazing pussy from the inside. Wow. She was so tight, so wet, hugging his cock in wonderful spasms and he knew he was getting close. He pried his hand in under her, finding her clit and massaging it with his thumb in rotations matching his thrusts. She came undone, squeezing his dick closely as he roughly came inside of her.

She rose, ready to get dressed as she felt two iron-arms embracing her. He chuckled. 'That's cute, how you think we are already finished'. She could feel him hard again. He pinned her down on her back, holding her hands in a dead-lock above her head as he reentered her in one hard thrust. It rendered her speechless as she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm. She gasped out loud, both at the feel of his dick inside of her and of the depth that he reached. He was pounding her hard, hitting her deep and not letting down the pace while keeping his eyes at hers. Wow, he had amazing eyes. Figures. It seemed like he had amazing everything. He increased his pace even further and she screamed, her back arching off the bed. His cock, h-o-l-y shit. For once, Trish was right. This was nothing like any of the half-ass sex experiences she had had before. He knew what he was doing. Really knew what he was doing. So, this was what it was like to sleep with a **_man_**? That fake ID was worth every penny. She tried to resist, wanting their activity to last, well, forever, but she could already feel herself tighten, her wonderful release only seconds away. She pulled on her arms and to her surprise, he let her go. She tugged on his hair a few times before digging her nails deep into his back as she succumbed to the waves of pleasure, while screaming, panting, shouting out his name. His breathing was ragged, his breath hitting her neck and making her shiver, almost painful-sounding noises coming out of his mouth, and the growl that accompanied his orgasm was loud enough to wake the neighbors. He could care less as he for the second time of the night gave in to temptation and filled her slickness with a long, amazing stream.

She snuck away in the early morning, him still sleeping naked in his bed. She knew what this was, she knew that he wasn't looking for anything more. No need for an awkward goodbye.

New week. First day of school. The dread. There was a time when she had liked school, and she still kept up good grades. She was just soooooo bored. She was popular, had a lot of friends, a lot of dates and was involved in several extra curricular activities. But she craved something else. She needed something to distract her, something to make her last semester go by faster. She just didn't know what. She glanced at herself in the mirror one last time, annoyed that her private, catholic high-school still required school uniforms. She worked with it, though, the hemline of her skirt just at the required length. Or maybe slightly above.

She entered the classroom with Trish, laughing at her stories about the redhead she had spent Saturday night with. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who had gotten some and loved it.

The principal entered the room, futilely trying to get everyone's attention. She was uninterestingly glancing over at the door. It couldn't be. There was no way. But she would have recognized that blonde, messy head of hair, those eyes and the god-like stature anywhere.

'Class, please welcome the newest member of our faculty, mr. Austin Moon.'Trish leaned over, whispering. 'I bet he can teach us all **_sorts_** of things'. 'He already has', she answered, blushing crimson as pictures from their night together flooded her mind and understanding washing over her best friend's face.

Oh, this was going to be one **_exciting_** semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N; Thank you all for the reviews and follows. Please keep it up. Without further ado, chapter 2. **

Chapter 2

One school week. Five fucking days and he had not acknowledged her, not even a hint of recognition. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't a little mad. And hurt. That night had been amazing, the best sex she had ever had. She knew he was probably some type of local playboy, and that nights like that were routine for him, but she would have still hoped that he remembered it, remembered **her**. And to make matters worse, she was so insanely attracted to him. Like panties-soaked, touching-herself-at-night-thinking-of-him attracted. And nothing. Not even a split second of eye contact.

She was settling into the regular school routine. Homework, boys, gossip. There wasn't a single member of the female student body that hadn't checked out the new math and music teacher. She couldn't say that she blamed them, as she was guilty as charged of the same crime.

Just her luck, _he_ was teaching her two favorite subjects.

The approaching weekend was bringing the first house party of the year. To say that she was excited was an overstatement, but Trish played the 'I need you there' card and she couldn't say no. Cue her enthusiasm. Yay. Getting hit on by drunk high school boys. Always a hit.

It was Friday afternoon, last class before the ball and chain was released from around their ankles and two days of freedom were bestowed upon them. She was nonchalantly doodling in her notebook, her thoughts wandering as she was confident enough to know that she would ace next week's test without paying attention nor studying. Numbers were easy for her. They always made sense.

The sharp noise of chairs being pushed back, signaling the end of class, ripped her away from her daydreaming. She had collected her books, heading for the door as his voice rang from behind her.

'Ms. Dawson, can you give me a minute of your time?' She bit her tongue from answering that she could give him more than just her time. Like her mouth. And body.

The door shut closed behind the last bored 12th grader and instantly, a thick quietness filled the room. He was in his chair, tapping a pen against the top of the desk while looking everywhere but at her. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was nervous.

He was collecting his thoughts, trying to clear his mind off the images of her sucking his dick while he was seated in his revolving chair. And of him fucking her up against the whiteboard. Then bent over his desk.

'I noticed you didn't pay attention in class today'. Her mouth dropped open. That's what he had kept her for? She stayed silent, trying to come up with a response as he turned around, finally facing her, an unreadable expression on his face.

Suddenly, he rose, erratically, as if even he was unsure of what he was planning to do. He approached her, unexpectedly pressing her up against the whiteboard, his body engulfing hers in its entirety while his eyes were piercing into hers. 'Ms. Dawson. Or should I say _**Ally**_?' A shiver down her spine as she recalled him groaning her name in a similar fashion while inside of her. 'Slight change of outfit from last weekend, wouldn't you say?' His mouth was mere inches away from hers. She could feel his breath on her neck.

'I thought you didn't recognize me', she whimpered, a mix of embarrassment and disappointment in her voice. That threw him off guard. She thought he had forgotten her? Granted, they had been drinking, but he wasn't that drunk. In fact, he remembered every fucking detail of their night as he replayed it in his mind on a daily basis, while in bed, jerking off to his own, internalized porno, occasionally adding scenes that he had not yet experienced but was dying to make come true. She had left him without a goodbye, and even though he had not expected much, it had hurt him. In a weird, twisted way, he was grateful that they had crossed paths again. Although it complicated things. A lot. He had been ignoring her on purpose, trying to build up his self-control as well as trying to come up with some sort of a master plan. He had failed miserably at both accounts, but the knowledge that he wasn't going to see her for two full days affected him more than he would care to admit and he just went with it, finally satisfying his need to interact with her again.

'I recognized you the fucking first second I walked in' (and a second after that he was fighting back a hard on, but he couldn't tell her that). 'Now, please tell me that you repeated a few grades, because if you're underage, so help me God'.

She could tell he was mad. She could also feel his cock hardening against her.

'I'm 18...in a month.'

He released her, a cry sounding like 'Shit' as he walked out of the classroom without looking back.

The scene was all too familiar. People making out on couches, scattered cups, furniture that would soon be drenched in spilled beer and, for added flair, the occasional spots of vomit. Dallas was once again hitting on her as if being turned down countless times wasn't enough. A desperate, sloppy, unwanted and unreciprocated kiss from her former crush settled the deal for her, and she left, deciding to walk home.  
-

He had been at home, no desire to join his roommate for another round of the clubbing routine. He decided to go for a walk to clear his head. He was moping, trying to figure out why he was in such a bad mood but knowing that she had something to do with it. He was mad. She was just a woman, for Christ's sake. Scratch that, she was just a **_girl_**. A girl he needed to get over. Shit, did he want to get over her. And under her. And inside her.

But she was too young to play, and to make matters worse, he really needed this job. Only solution was to stay away from her. Completely, as he did not trust himself around her. He saw no other way than to continue to ignore her.  
He felt better as he decided that next weekend, he would go out with Dez, find a random hookup and forget all about her.

He entered the nearby convenience store, at first thinking he was hallucinating as the very root of his bad mood was standing right in front of him. His first reaction was anger followed by lust. Shit, was the universe trying to play a joke on him? Punish him? Did he have bad karma laying around? He was no saint, but hell, he was not the worst sinner around. He had **_just_** made a resolution and now he was already being tested. Go figure.

There was a faint blush on her cheeks, either from a walk or maybe a couple of drinks. He had overheard something about a party. Her brown, perfected curls cascaded down her back. She was just so pretty, he almost felt guilty about wanting her. Almost being the key word. He fisted his hand in his pocket. Stay away.

She noticed that she was being observed and her brown orbits met his, her mouth popping open in surprise. 'Ms. Dawson'. Continued surprise, this time around triggered by the fact that he was acknowledging her. She smiled. 'Mr. Moon', she answered quietly, not giving into the temptation of meeting his eyes again. Those freaking eyes. They melted her.

The sound of the door sensor signaled his departure.

He had left, an ache to touch her overcoming him, followed by a desire to feel her smoothness against him, a craving for the delicious flavor of her skin to playfully tantalize his taste buds. He shook his head at himself.

Wait, what was she doing there anyways? Was she by herself? His irrational need to protect her reappeared and he cursed internally at his own weakness as he turned around to find her.

She had just left the store, indulging in her favorite sugary drink when she realized that someone was following behind her. She got scared and screamed out loud as two arms surrounded her. 'It's me', his voice in her ear, and her heart was beating even faster than when she thought she was being assaulted. 'You should know better than to walk around by yourself'. His intention was to sound scolding, punitive, but he realized his voice was laced with underlying desire. She nodded, still speechless from his overwhelming closeness. And the smell of man.

They stood still, lustfully embracing, his self-restraint draining by the minute. Why was he so unbelievably weak? 'Fuck, Ally'. His hand in her hair, his body pressing her up against the brick wall of the convenience store with his other hand on her waist, whilst his erection, an in her company faithful companion, announced itself by pressing into her leg. Both of them panting, knowing that they would kiss but him desperately trying to fight it to absolutely no avail. His lips enclosed on hers, rushed, hungrily. They were eagerly making out in the margin of the shadows from the nearby streetlight. His tongue explored every nook and cranny of her mouth, running it over her lips, teasingly savoring her taste while realizing that a few more minutes of this would push him to unashamedly take her then and there.

And then he walked away without a word.

She stayed still, leaning up against the wall for a few minutes, trying to process what had just happened. She knew that she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything else. And he was **_clearly_** still attracted to her.

Let the games begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N; So, chapter 3 is here. Thanks for the nice reviews, please keep them nice ones are welcome too, if that's how you feel. **

**In response to some questions and comments;**  
**Austin's approximate age is revealed in this chapter. **  
**In Florida, where I live and this story takes place, there wouldn't be any legal repercussions for a teacher sleeping with their student, if both people are over 18 (and it's consensual, of course!). The teacher would, most likely, lose his job though. **

Chapter 3

One week. He lasted _**one**_ fucking week before touching her again. He had the self-control equivalent to his attraction for Dez. In other words, null. He did not understand. He was good at almost **_everything_** else. Right now, he would trade any of his talents for some freaking **_will_** _**power**_.

He walked home, fast paced. He was still so unbelievably horny but the likelihood of him turning back around and fucking her brains out decreasing exponentially with each step. He almost ran the rest of the way home.

Soon, in bed, slowly stroking himself, thinking of her smell, her hair, her legs, her smile, her lips tightly pressed up against his...He almost couldn't believe that it only had been a week since he had had her there, right in his bed, her extraordinary pussy all his to enjoy in blissful ignorance. Fuck, he wanted her in every position he could think off. Dying to feel her on top of him, riding him hard. Taking her up against a wall, her legs wrapped around him. His dick entering her with her legs resting on his shoulders. Fucking her from behind...and he came, hard, frustratingly as he knew that his fantasies had to remain just that.

He entered the school on Monday morning, a mix of dread and excitement running through him as he wanted to see her but wasn't sure what state his usually faltering self-control was in.

He couldn't mess up. He needed this job. He had just graduated from college the previous summer, a year early as his hard work of consistent, heavy course loads and summer classes paid off. Finishing college had been his part of the deal, what he had agreed to do for his father to get off his back and continue to support him so that he could pursue a music career. Never mind that his father had gone back on his word, cutting him off when he refused to work for him. Dez, his high-school friend and later college buddy, took him in but he still needed an income. Luckily, the private school that hired him didn't require any certifications as the job was temporary - the previous teacher was taking a semester off on maternity leave. Dez knew someone who knew someone who had put in a good word for him. It was perfect, as he finished early enough every day, allowing him to work on his music. And he got to teach music, something that he enjoyed more than he thought he would. Only glitch was that he also enjoyed one of the students more than he thought he would.

He avoided her. Could not even look at her. His lips could still taste her; his hands still aching to touch her. Stay away.

It was midweek and he had continued to ignore her like the plague. She seemed to have gotten the message, as she hadn't made any indications that she wanted to interact with him. Maybe he had gotten his point across that he couldn't touch her, couldn't be with her. Granted, he had kind of not followed through with that as he selfishly made out with her the past weekend. But still. He was _**NOT**_ going to touch her again.

She entered the room, walking towards her usual seat in the front row. As she approached it, she dropped her pencil and reflexively leaned down to reach it, her skirt rising and thereby inadvertently flashing him, letting him know that she preferred black lace thongs. Funny, he happened to have that same preference.  
She sat down and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was freaking gorgeous. Her short skirt hitched up slightly on her leg, revealing mile-long, tanned limbs, seemingly made for the sole purpose of being wrapped around his back.

It was beyond him how a school, in an effort to minimize sexuality, required attire like that. If it was up to him, she would be wearing a garbage bag. He was pretty sure that that would not help, though. She would still find some fucking way to turn him on. And turned on, he was. Lucky for him, he had a desk he could hide behind. Lucky for her, there was a class full of spectators or she would have found herself fucked hard up against her seat.

Class was over. She noticed that he hadn't gotten out of his chair for the entire time.

She left, exiting the classroom while innocently batting her eyes at him, hardening him further as he was left wondering how the devil and heaven on earth could reside in the same person, at the same time.

She smiled to herself as she walked away. She enjoyed having control over him. Men were apparently not that different from boys. All that was needed was a tiny piece of flimsy material and a bit of an enticing angle.

He could almost feel the material of her panties between his teeth, the vividness of his imagination at an all time high, as he was quietly jerking off in one of the bathroom stalls like some sort of pervert. This was what had become of him? He was in deep shit.

He came, hard, picturing her red lips around the base of his cock, willingly swallowing him down.

It was Friday again, everyone going through the motions for the last few hours before lady liberty would grace them with her presence.

She entered the cafeteria, the cesspool of the high school world. She almost choked as she realized that, for once, he was having lunch in the cafeteria. And he wasn't alone. Dear God. He was seated in between two of the female teachers, both of them his senior by a few years but that did not seem to deter them as they were both, simultaneously, trying to get his attention. And to her dismay, it didn't look like they were completely unsuccessful as he was currently in deep conversation with the blonder one. What was her name? Ms. something something...Cassidy! That was it. She had heard some of the boys talking about her at the last party. Apparently, she was considered hot. She didn't see it. The bimbo was pretending to be acting casual but was obviously and deliberately running her hand over his arm, slightly running her nails against his skin, fake smile on her face. How could he not see through that? What was that uncomfortable feeling spurting through her? Right. Jealousy. She was under no illusion that they were in any way exclusive, heck, they were not even non-exclusive. But he was _**hers**_ all the same.

Time to step up her game.

He was walking to the last class, a little nervous as he had seen her in the cafeteria and was now unable to get his thoughts away from her. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should ask out one of the teachers that had mercilessly flirted with him throughout lunch. Who was he kidding? None of them compared to _**her**_.

He was halfway through class when his eyes met hers. He would like to think of it as a coincident, but knew better. She smiled, spread her legs wide, giving him an eye-full and he realized that she wasn't wearing any underwear.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He was looking straight at her nude pussy. She closed her legs, still pretending to take notes, looking like virgin Mary herself while acting like her counterpart from a warmer place down, down below.  
Class was finally over. Funny how he had gone through yet another class sitting down.

'Ms. Dawson, I need your help', his voice more like a croak. Trish gave her an incredulous look while departing the classroom. Her best friend was the only one who knew about their night together. She hadn't told her about the make-out session from the previous weekend, though. For some reason, she felt as if that was their little dirty secret. And she was more than willing to create more secrets. On the spot.  
'How can I _**help**_ you, Mr. Moon?'

His lips were on hers before the door had even closed. His hands eagerly, desperately running over her body, hitching up her skirt while his tongue was urgently pressing against hers. He pushed her down on top of his desk, spreading her legs while he stood between them, pressing his obvious hard-on into her bare core to find some sort of release, keeping his hands entangled in her hair to keep himself from unbuttoning his pants. She moaned, grinding her hips up against his, clearly seeking friction. He was dying to pleasure her, knowing that he shouldn't. Couldn't. Maybe just one stroke, to feel her wetness that he was positive to be present, just a few quick thrusts with his fingers...no.  
'Touch yourself' he growled in her ear, voice raspy with need. She did not comply, as she was working her lips against his neck, her hands pulling at his hair at the nape of his neck. Cue goosebumps.

'I said, touch yourself' he demanded, knowing that if she didn't he would. She complied, hesitantly, but thoroughly turned on by his dominating side. 'Make yourself cum for me'. His breath hitching, raggedly, as seeing her pleasure herself was more enticing than he could have ever imagined. Crap.

His lips returned to hers, swallowing her moans as he relished in having her twisting in pleasure in front of him. He was rubbing himself up against her leg while she was rubbing herself, her fingers working the wetness he was willing to kill to experience again. 'Cum'. She soon obeyed, riding out her self-induced orgasm, one hand on her pussy, using the other one to lean back on the desk as the delightful waves were raging like fire throughout her body.

They were both panting, one from satisfaction, the other from unsatisfied hornyness. Eyes burning into each other. He reached for her hand, sucking her juices off of her fingers, one by one, moaning, throatily, her taste seducing his mouth, before following his now usual routine of walking away. Or more like running. Headed for another jerk-off session.

She was still breathing hard. She hadn't expected that.  
She smiled. Cassidy had nothing on her.

Saturday night.

Tonight, he was going to forget all about her. He was going to get drunk, hook up, have amazing, mind-blowing sex with a stranger and come Monday, she would be out of his system and out of his mind.

His lips were on hers, urgently, desperately searching for what he was craving but unable to find it. A growl of frustration out of his mouth, as he imagined the blonde in front of him with brown hair instead. And doe-shaped, mesmerizing eyes.

This was doing nothing for him.

His company mistakenly interpreted his growl as one of pleasure and pressed her lips even harder up against him, her tongue searching his unsuccessfully as he pulled away.

And he left. Alone. 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N; Reviews are nice and always appreciated. **

They were both naked. Bodies heaving from pleasure, from need, overly reactive to every touch, every nibble, every kiss as they were exploring each other with their fingertips, their lips, their tongues. He was slowly licking every part of her, pushing her back into the very same bed where he had claimed her a few weeks ago. His fingers ran over her nipples, squeezing them, hardening them instantly while he was rubbing his hard, lengthy cock into her thigh, repeatedly, her feeling him grow harder with each thrust. A noise - _her_ _voice_? - begging to be taken, begging to be owned, begging to be fucked. Him, smirking, a sideway crooked smile as he slowly entered her, his eyes burning into hers with covet and pure need, pools of lava burning into her soul, her whole body exuberant under his expertise touch. She relished in feeling his body fully on top of her, blanketing, making her feel safe and like an endangered animal recently caught by her hunter all the same. His dick pumping her interminably, pleasurably, his thumb rubbing her clit in tiny circles and she screamed while pulling on his hair in hard fistfuls. She was close, so very close...

Her eyes shut open. She was panting hard, disoriented. _Where_ was she?  
Right.

Her own bed.

Alone.

Horny and alone.

She had been so close, so very close, and yet so, so far away.

Tiny drops of disappointment prickled her eyes as she realized that it was just a senseless, fucking dream, of her dream fucking her senseless.

One of the 'pleasures' of private schools were the amount of events and parties and fundraisers that occurred thought the year. The first one of the semester was coming up and she brazed herself as she knew that she had to go. She was on the freaking party planning committee. And she knew she should probably bring a date. Crap.

He had kept up his now-tired charade of ignoring her, but at this point he knew it was temporary, only a matter of time before he would break down and initiate contact with her again. The breakdown appeared sooner then he expected, though.

He was walking down the hallway. Fast. He was mad, mad enough to fucking punch something. Or _someone_. Adrenaline running wild throughout his body as he was fisting his hands in his pockets. He was not going to punch a student. He was _not_ going to. Even if he deserved it. Fuck. He _deserved_ it. But he was not going to. _Not_. _Not_. _Not_. The mantra running on repeat in his head all the way to the classroom.

He laid eyes on her, the very subject of his high-fueled anger and he instantly felt the resentment running off of him. He wasn't mad at _her_. She caught him looking and she smiled, almost shyly, the combination of seductiveness and innocence that he now only associated with her on full display.

Was it just him, or was the classroom unusually hot today?

Class was soon over and he watched her leave, feeling empty. He needed to talk to her. Just talk.

She had just picked up her books from the locker and was making her way towards the next class, running a few minutes behind due to a lengthier bathroom break, when she heard his voice behind her. She stifled a smile as she turned around upon hearing him call her by her first name, the pleasant sound almost echoing in the now empty hallway as he approached her, soon standing face to face. Or rather, face to chest. She was quite a bit shorter than him, after all.

He reached down to to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, and she flinched, not out of displeasure but out of surprise at the sudden and unexpected intimacy of the gesture. He swallowed hard when his eyes met hers. His fingers were aching to touch her, to caress her, to pleasure her.

'So, we're on a first-name basis now, _Austin_?' His dick twitched. He was hard just from hearing her say his name, his plan of just talking to her instantaneously up in smoke. He looked around, scanning the corridor, his eyes landing on a small door that he could only assume to be a janitors closet. 'Come', speaking authoritatively enough for him to know she wouldn't argue or resist while saying a silent prayer that the door would be unlocked. His heart was pounding loudly as he realized that he couldn't be that bad of a sinner, after all, as his prayer was heard and the door cracked opened in one swift motion, him pushing her inside and quickly following. The door had all but closed before he had her pushed up against it. It was dark, a small crack of light sipping in underneath the bottom of the door. His mouth was so close to her neck, she could feel his shortened breaths on her, creating tingles running down her spine and throughout the rest of her body. So this was where the expression 'weak in the knees' came from. She almost couldn't stand straight, completely invigorated by all that was _**him**_.

'So I overheard a conversation in the cafeteria today...', his voice sprinkled with rage but trailing off as his mouth became otherwise occupied, placing a light kiss underneath her ear. 'Uhmm' was all that she could master as she could care _less_ about his conversations and _more_ about those lips running against her skin.

He stopped.

She sobbed.

'It was about you. And how you agreed to go to this weekend's dance with this little _shithead_ of a kid, who also claims that he is going to _nail_ you afterwards'. The magnitude of his anger increased with each word, his hold on her tightening as he unwillingly pictured her in bed with someone else. He. Did. Not. Like. It. She gasped from his hard grip.

'Did you agree to go to the dance with him?' 'Who, Elliott? Yes, I have to go and it's customary to bring a date'. He was boiling. 'He was describing in detail what he was going to do to you. I believe he used the words _fine_ _piece_ _of_ _ass_ to describe you several times.' He was louder than he meant to be.

'You disagree? And anyways, what is it to you? Last time I checked, you are my _teacher_ who for some _unknown_ reason is trying to avoid me at all cost'. Her voice teasing, slightly confrontational. 'Don't mess with me, I almost beat the living shit out of him' he hissed, jealousy still consuming him. She smiled in the darkness, secretly basking in the fact that he cared enough to get upset over some dumb conversation.

'No need to get agitated, I won't let him touch me...**_much_**'. A groan of exasperation slipping out from between his lips, his hips gyrating sharply into hers as if on auto-pilot. He needed to show her...something. He had no clue of what he was trying to accomplish. All he knew was that he was greedy, yearning for her touch and a few seconds away from doing **_exactly_** what he had tried to avoid yet been obsessed with for the past few weeks. Namely, fuck her breathless.

'Will you let him do this?' His tongue running over the sensitive skin on her neck. 'Perhaps'. 'How about this?' He kissed her roughly. She broke away. 'Maybe', knowing very well that she wouldn't but enjoying his jealousy a little too much. She wanted to see how far she could push him. She was hoping far enough so that _he_ would push something _into_ her.

'How about this?' He was removing her shirt, then pushing down her bra to kiss the top of her breasts, licking and teasing, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her delicate skin before unclasping her bra, sucking on and making her nipples rock hard. She was craving him, needing him, wanting him. 'Possibly'.

'How about this?' His hand was on the inside of her thighs, pushing her skirt higher up while slowly caressing the sensitive skin in between, slowly working its way up to her wetness. She was no longer in a state to coherently answer him, a low '**_Idontknow_**' all she could master. She knew he was debating whether to touch her or not, knowing that he thought he shouldn't, but also knowing that, if she made him feel anything _close_ to as turned on as he did to her, it was close to inevitable. She decided to speed up the decision-making process, grabbing his hand, swiftly running his fingers against her drenched self.

And then there was no turning back.

She was poison. Delicious poison. She was killing him and yet he wanted more.

His finger found her entrance, saturated, longing. He slid in, hesitantly, not because of her but because of himself. She moaned, slightly exasperatedly as she _needed_ to touch him as well, craving to make him squirm with pleasure induced by her strokes. 'Let me...I want to...', her voice shaking slightly as she reached for him, palming him through his pants before unzipping them, pressing down on him in the process. He didn't stop her, extremely aware that he was sliding down the slippery slope, soon to hit rock bottom as he groaned into her neck upon feeling her hand around his cock. Pleasure was multiplying as he was finger fucking her while she was giving him a heavenly hand-job. In the janitors closet. Between classes.

'Will you let him do this?' She didn't answer. Rougher, his digits pumping her hard as his mouth clasped tightly to her neck, ineffectively curbing his growls. She whimpered, both from his possessiveness and physical pleasure, her breaths now in short pants filling the tiny, dark space.

'Ally, I won't let you cum until you answer me. Will you let him do this?' his voice was hoarse, but still tainted with anger. 'No', she semi-screamed into his ear and he finally gave her what she was longing for, pushing her over the edge with a few rough finger thrusts and some nice, fast thumb circles over her clit. Her hand was squeezing him tighter, pumping him furiously as she blew up under his touch, pushing him towards climax and delivering the final straw by pantingly screaming out her orgasm in to his ear. He let go, with one finger still inside of her, cumming all over her bare chest and stomach, a loud grunt as he for the first time since he met her released under someone else's touch.

It was divine.

He turned on the light, reached for a paper towel to clean her off with from a nearby shelf, wiping her almost apologetically, then kissing her, softer and less hurriedly while she was getting dressed, buttoning his pants, reluctantly pulling away as he knew they had to get going.

He had a class to teach. She had a class to attend.

'So you're really going to this dance?'

'Yes'

'With ass face?'

'Yes'

'I volunteered to chaperone'. He had convinced himself it had nothing to do with her. That the _only_ reason he did so was to keep himself busy after last weekend's clubbing fiasco.

Her heart was hammering hard in anticipation of spending Saturday night, if not _with_ him, at least in close proximity to him. Maybe this dance wouldn't be so boring, after all.

'I guess I'll see you there'. And for once, she was the first one to walk away. 


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N; Chapter 5 already. That flew by. Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites. It's what keeps me writing. You guys rock. Please keep it up. **

**There is a quote from Deadwood Covenant in here. Is it bad when you start quoting other fanfics? I think I really need to get another hobby (=. **

He entered the school gym, some odd sense of anxiety and anticipation flushing through him. Now he was excited about a high-school dance? Wow. He was in knee-deep shit.

He looked around, scanning the small crowd of adolescents, disappointment weighing down on him as he failed to find her.

He approached the drink table, both agitated at and grateful for the obvious lack of alcoholic beverages. God only knew what he would do if he was drunk.

Suddenly, a light touch on his arm, a smitten smile on his face as he expectantly turned around only to have his eyes fall on a fake smile and blonde tresses.

Cassidy.

She looked good, probably even sexy, but something about her irked him. It took him a second to put his finger on it; she wasn't _**her**_. Apparently, that's all it took nowadays to turn him off. He engaged in polite small-talk with his colleague, for the first time regretting agreeing to chaperone, as he grew more annoyed with each non-subtle flirtatious remark.

_**She**_ walked in, the brown-haired ass face trailing behind her like a lost puppy, turning a few heads as she entered the open dance floor. It was torture to see those little twits eyeing her as if they had a chance. He was going crazy thinking that some of them actually might. Or already had. Cue hand fisting.

Did she know the affect she had on most of the male population? For some reason, he felt as if she was oblivious to it. A clueless temptress. Except for when it came to him, of course. It was clearly her mission in life to drive him insane.

She scanned the room, saw him and smiled, almost unnoticeably but enough for him to know that she had acknowledges his presence. Why did he suddenly feel feverish?

Her eyes wandered to him on impulse, taking in his dressed up attire, managing to look both dapper and sexily disheveled at the same time. She couldn't look away for more than a few seconds at a time. He wasn't just sexy, he _**was**_ sex. Had she not known what he was capable of, to what extent he could pleasure her, she may have been able to just look and appreciate. But she did know. And therefore, just looking was no longer an option.

Her newly acquired archenemy appeared and ran her hand suggestively over his arm. Great. Just fucking peachy.

She spent the next hour listening to Elliot's ramblings and half-concealed advances while keeping tabs on _**him**_ and the pretty blonde.

His eyes met hers intermittently, too often to be called coincidence. She was sumptuous, her dress making slow love to her every curve and cuddling her ass like a love-sick kitten. He could not not stare.

She was standing by herself at the concession stand, her date to busy loudly engaging in some childish conversation with a few other boys on the other side of the approached her from behind, itching to cage her in and rub himself up against her but settling on a distance that only _**bordered**_ on inappropriate.

'No need to be jealous, I prefer brunettes', he hissed in her ear. 'I caught you eyeing us earlier'. She smiled. 'I was only eyeing you'. 'Like what you saw?' She nodded slowly, running her tongue suggestively over her lips and he was once yet reminded of how alluring she was. Shit.

She walked away, him staying behind, semi-successfully fighting back a hard-on as he caught an eye-full of her backside.

She soon found herself on the dance floor, nearly bored to death until her gaze again found his, their eyes engaging in a sexual slow dance as they were eye fucking each other from across the room, their respective dance partners clueless to the current of sexual electricity almost electrocuting them.

She stiffened as Elliott began trailing his hand over her back and down towards her butt. She was hoping that he would stop and praying that _**he**_ wouldn't notice.  
Oh, _**he**_ noticed alright.  
Luckily, for Elliott that is, his hands stopped on her back.  
Good for him. Otherwise, he may have found himself leaving the dance with a few less teeth than he came with.

A slow song poured out from the speakers, setting a much more romantic mood. The melody was half-way done when he saw the assface lean in, his lips touching what was his, something resembling relief washing through him as he saw her pull away without responding to the kiss. That little _**fucker**_. He was going to punch him, diminish him, beat him to a pulp...those lips were for _**him**_ and him _**only**_.

She walked away, declining her date's company, presumably to catch some fresh air.

He hesitated for only a millisecond before following her, reaching her just as she was exiting the glass doors, grabbing her, roughly, as if there was something urgent he needed to share with her. And there was. His unyielding cock.

He pulled her into the outside nearby shadows in one swift moment.

'I have something to tell you.' They were already flushed together, her bare back pressed up against and gently irritated by the harsh surface of the wall as his dick was greeting her leg. She smirked, clearly noticing that he was in the mood for other things than talking. 'Really. And what's that?'

He was conflicted. He wanted to preserve her illusional chastity yet fuck the hell out of her.

'That you are mine and none of these shitty high school jocks can have you.'  
His lips swallowed her muffled response, effectively jumpstarting their inescapable foreplay. Guilt was gnawing away at him like a worm in Eve's apple, knowing that he, just like her, would give in to the juicy temptation of the delicious fruit. Or, in his case, his gorgeous, underaged student.

He was soon sticking a finger into her wetness, rubbing her, roughly finger fucking her. Just for a minute. A few quick thrusts, that's all. Just to relieve the ache. But then, as if possessed with magical powers uncontrolled by himself, his lips were on her neck, her cleavage, her thighs, pushing her dress up and ripping her underwear as he was kneeling in front of taste of her pussy was soon on his lips, accompanied by appreciative humming as his tongue darted out to add some pressure to her clit. She gasped. He finally got to savor her, her exquisiteness nothing short of what he had predicted.

She was drenched.

A soft light from the nearby spotlight gave him a partial view of her face, her innocent eyes looking right at him as he was engaging in an activity that was anything but. She was holding up her dress above her waist, small goosebumps forming on her skin as he was eating her out up against the gym brick wall.

She was biting her hand in an effort to stifle her too loud moans as there were people entering and exiting the gym a few hundred feet away.

He needed to take her. Needed to reintroduce his cock to her insides.

He licked her in a few more, long licks and she crumbled to pieces in front of him, reaching a non-artificial high that he was the only one able to evoke, her eyes rolled back and spasms rippling through her body as his lips didn't lose contact with her pussy.

She had all but finished when he felt her pulling him up, her eager hand on his zipper, successfully pulling it down while palming him impatiently and quickly reversing their previous positions. She was on her knees before he could react, sliding him into her mouth for the first time, relishing in the loud gasp that he let out as a result of experiencing her mouth's tight embrace. She started slow, tasting him, sucking his head in short thrusts as she pumped him.

He whimpered. Of course she was amazing at blow-jobs. Why wouldn't she be? She was the devil, after all. And shit did he enjoy sinning. His cock hit her throat and he couldn't stop himself from fisting her hair, hard. She repeated, clearly enjoying the effect that the movement had on him, the head of his cock pushing into the back of her throat at frantic speed and he lost it, way too soon as he had wanted to feel her lips on him from now to infinity, his cum spilling into her mouth in blissful abundance while she swallowed him unhesitantly.

He smiled to himself as he pictured her date trying to kiss her now.

She stood up, as if getting ready to leave, and he pulled her back, not yet wanting to let her go. They stood there, in the darkness of the late Miami winter night, bodies embracing and hearts still racing, both of them in disbelief of what had just transpired yet still enormously turned on.  
She walked away first, a shy smile over her shoulder as she reentered the gym.

And he knew he could die, if not happy at least semi-so.

He was in bed, for once thinking rather than jerking off to mental images of her.  
He clearly had some sort of thing for her, his resolution to stay completely away from her suddenly an Everest of unachievable platitudes.

But he _**could**_ wait a few more weeks. Never mind that there was _**probably**_ a policy against faculty fucking students, even if they were of age. Heck, that he could deal with. Especially since they weren't going to get caught.

Right? 


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N; Thank you guys for reading and reviewing! Please continue as I'm running low on motivation.**

**I've gotten several reviews that says this reminds them of Pretty Little Liars. I take that as a compliment although I have never watched the show (runs and hides). Maybe I should?**

**My inspiration for this story was a few lines from The 1975 song 'Girls' (covered by R5). Add a vivid sexual imagination and all the amazing places one could have sex at at a school (and a few other places), and the result is this story. **

**If you haven't seen the video of the cover of the song, you should. Ross is hot hot hot. I kind of want to lick him when I watch it. In all sorts of places. **

**But what else is new. **

Another week down. Seven days closer to the completion up his internal countdown.

Her birthday was approaching with the speed of a dying snail.

As per usual, they hadn't interacted much. He was determined to keep his newest resolution and she had made no attempts to challenge him. He was half relieved and half disappointed. Just because he had made a promise to himself didn't mean he didn't want her, craved her, fantasized about her...and oh, did he ever.  
Valentine's day, the black sheep in the herd of holidays, was coming up. The only silver lining in the cloud filled sky that now was his life was the fact that her birthday was a few days later.

He had found out, through the grapevine, or rather through blabber mouth himself, that she had a date for Valentine's day. It had made him angry to a point that scared him. He had absolutely no say in who she saw or who she went on dates with or who she did only God knows what else with. And that fact made him madder than the actual date itself.

He had never been a fan of kissing and telling, never gotten any pleasure from exposing private details to the world. Maybe it was the few extra years of experience that he had on them, but he couldn't recall ever doing so in high school either. By his knowledge, the ones that spoke the loudest were the ones getting the least action. And if that was the case, he didn't mind Elliot's continuos blabbering. In fact, he was counting on it. Apart from grinding his teeth at the usual and unnecessarily detailed description of what he was planning to do to her, he was grateful for the fuckface's big mouth.

He now knew exactly where he was planning on taking her for their date.

_Valentine's_ _day_. Why did it sound like a curse in his head?

He woke up with a headache and in a bad mood, unbeknownst to him a premonition of how his late-night date would make him feel.

Yes, he had a date.

She had caught him off guard, starting off with vaguely concealed innuendos that he chose to ignore until she finally bluntly asked him to go on a date and he couldn't come up with a good lie as to why he couldn't. And honestly, sitting at home daydreaming about one of his students did not sound like the ideal way to spend Valentine's day. Especially when said student was going to be on a date as well.

He was in his classroom, fidgety, uneasy. Class was about to start in 10 minutes. He was still gloomy, internally cursing at Cupid for having shot him with an arrow that still stung and left him wounded.

There was only one person he wanted to see and it was decidedly not his blonde date.

He turned around in surprise as he heard the classroom door close shut. The students were rarely eager to get there before class started.

He swallowed hard as he laid eyes on the answer to all his prayers.

She didn't say anything as she approached him, her eyes superglued to his, a seductive glimpse in her eye that excited him and frightened him all at once.  
She was close, he could smell her and his body reacted accordingly. Damn.

Pushing him backwards, her small hand on his chest, he soon felt his chair hitting the back of his legs, forcing him to drop down on top of it. She kissed him, wasting none of their precious time, expertedly unzipping his pants and instantly stroking him in hard blows before kneeling down in between his now spread wide legs. She tasted him, swirled her tongue around him, switching between licks and sucks while driving him absolutely insane. He had one hand entangled in her brown hair, his eyes alternating between hers and the little glass square in the door as he was fucking her mouth in deep, fast thrusts. Her tongue was all over him while he was hitting her throat, repeated collisions with an intensely pleasurable impact.

The clock above the doorway was a ticking time bomb, each second a tiny step closer to someone walking through the door. He was holding back, not wanting it to end, until he realized that they were almost out of time, reluctantly detonating into her mouth, her swallowing in mouthfuls.

"Happy Valentine's Day", her voice still spiked with desire, speaking the first words to him all week as she made her way up to his ear. "Next time, you're going to fuck me on your desk. And then up against the white board." She was whispering as if she was telling him a dirty secret, and shit, was she ever.

"Can you stay after class?". His voice was a croak. Rhyme and reason were tied up together and tossed out the window. From the 10th floor.  
"Nope, I have to get ready for my date." He groaned.  
She took a seat and he buttoned up his pants, just before the other students started to enter the classroom.

She got ready, the taste of him still lingering on her lips. She sighed thinking about her impending date. She was trying to get her spirits up. But it was hard. Once the thought of riding a stallion had crossed her mind, it was increasingly difficult to get excited about a pony. And crap, did she want to ride a stallion. All night long...

So maybe it was evil to bring Cassidy to the same restaurant that he knew _she_ was going to be at. But considering all the other sins he had committed so far this year, this one was the most likely to be pardoned.

He saw her at once when he entered, looking bored with feigned interest, already all too familiar with her facial expression of pretending to listen while her mind was elsewhere. He should know, she did it all the time in Math class. He could only hope that some of her daydreams starred him. She was always the lead in his. And, funny enough, most of the time she was naked. Huh. He had no clue why.

Oh, right.

Because she was sexy as fuck and a freaking goddess in bed.

She choked on her drink when she saw him, providing him with a shy, difficult to read smile, an elaborate mix of surprise, relief, excitement and sorrow.

They greeted each other, Elliot and Cassidy once again in complete oblivion to the unspoken tension that consumed their respective dates.

"What a coincidence to see you guys here", the blonde bimbo gushed while running her too long nails over _her_ property, also known as Austin's arm.

Something was telling her that them ending up in the same restaurant, on Valentine's day, was too much of good fortune to be due to chance alone.

His company turned out to be more annoying than he had been able to predict. Listening to yet another uninteresting anecdote, his eyes searched for and found _hers_ a few tables away. Finally something to keep him entertained.

Their eyes didn't leave each other for more than seconds at a time. It was unclear whether it was a form of hot foreplay or a never-ending staring contest with no declared winner. Well, both of them were winners as insanely hot eye fucking was the end result.

She excused herself, claiming to need to use the restroom when in reality she needed a break from yet another one of Elliot's bragging stories. Yes, yes, he was good at everything. She got it.

She was on her way back, walking through the darkened hallway when he appeared in front of her, grabbing her and pressing her up against the nearby wall. None of them spoke a word, their lips crashing into each other while creating quiet, slightly desperate music, moving from slow-dance to rave in under half a minute. Hands wandering, cupping, scratching, exploring, minute after minute of tongues pressed together, licks, nibbles, stifled moans, hair pulling.  
She unwillingly broke away, realizing that they had been gone for a while. She was on a date with someone else, after all. The last thing she wanted was for Elliot to come looking for her, finding her making out with their math teacher outside of the women's bathroom.

He stayed behind in the darkness, needing a minute to calm down. She had given him a taste, a mouthful, a small piece of delectable chocolate when all he wanted was the whole damn box.

Back at the table, she was looking at the list of the food selection with a diminished appetite.

The menu only offered boy, and she was yet again craving man.

She was walking towards her front door, having said bye to Elliot after a decently uncomfortably ride home, including him trying to run his hands over her legs, topped off with a, by him initiated, awkward kiss before he drove off.

The shadows from the huge, nearby tree came alive. She knew better than to get scared.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to wish you a Happy Valentine's Day". His voice alone turned her on.

"How do you know where I live?"

"School records" He didn't even try to sound embarrassed.

"Stalker"

"I've been called worse"

"I'm sure you have"

His fingers were trailing the outline of her face, lit up by the light from the half moon above. Her eyes were lakes of chocolate, he wanted to swim in them, forever. If eyes were truly the mirrors to one's soul, she definitely had a beautiful one.

"Let me walk you to your door", a futile attempt to keep up pretenses, playing the role of the gentleman they both knew he clearly wasn't.

They reached her porch, both at loss of words and hearts beating fast in nervous anticipation.

"I don't understand why you would go on a date with that fuckface. I just _know_ he tried to kiss you again. He doesn't seem like a guy that would give up easily." He sounded angry.  
She sighed. "What would you rather have me do, sit at home pining over you? I don't get it. You don't want me, but no one else can have me?"

"Who the fuck said I don't want you?"

"Oh, let me see...You've been ignoring me for, I don't know, always."

"I thought you knew that it isn't by choice, it's necessary. I have absolutely no self-control around you. I wish I could hang out with you, just talk to you, but the truth is I can't keep myself from wanting to fuck you into tomorrow every time I see you."

Round two of the staring contest began, but was rudely interrupted when he kissed her, hard, erasing the unpleasant memory of Elliot's lips off of hers, millimeter by millimeter, creating trails of tingling desire as he was pushing her up against the door, his hands tracing the sensitive skin under her skirt, working its way into her underwear. He was planning on ripping them off and plunge his cock into her, now only mere seconds away from fucking her hard up against her own front door, while her father was sleeping unsuspiciously in his bedroom a few yards away. Resolutions be damned, he needed to pleasure her, he needed to fill her, he needed to cum inside of her.

But first, he needed to taste her, wanting to return her generous treat from earlier in the day.

His mouth was making his way down her body, panting as if he was in the desert, on the brink of dehydration and his only salvation was to drink her. He was about to reach her oasis when a light flickered alive in the kitchen window, signaling the presence of her now awake father and simultaneously the abrupt end to their way too short session.

One more deep kiss, and he left, hard as rock, but still satisfied as he knew she would be thinking of him all night.

New week.

Monday.

Her 18th birthday...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N; Happy Birthday, Ally! Can I also have an Austin Moon for my birthday, pretty please?**

He couldn't recall a day in recent memory that had gone by slower. Granted, Mondays tended to drag along. But this one seemed to aim for a record in the Guinness book. He knew he wouldn't get to see her until the afternoon. Her second to last class of the day was with him.

Music.

He smiled involuntarily when he saw her walk in, accompanied by her shorter best friend, stealing a lingering glance as her eyes immediately searched his, a shy, secretive smile on her face. Was she also still thinking about Saturday night? Because he sure as shit was.

God, he wanted her.

He was incredibly proud for having kept his latest resolution. It had been close, but he had made it. Mental high five. Mental high _ten_.

He could tell she really liked the class as she seemed mesmerized with everything that he was talking about. It was quite a welcome change from her frequent and blatantly obvious boredom in Math class. What he couldn't figure out was why she acted like a different person in this class. She was shy, quiet, trying to blend into the crowd when it was clearly an impossibility. She was anything but average.

He had planned on keeping her after class. Not for anything X-rated, but to wish her a happy birthday and maybe sneak in a kiss or two. His lips were missing her company. He was under no illusion that, just because she was now legal, she was eagerly and without hesitation going to fuck him at his will. It wasn't like he had a free pass to her pussy. Shit, he wished he had an _annual_ pass to that ride, when in reality he didn't even have a one day ticket.

And it wasn't as if he had planned of fucking her up against the piano or anything.

Oh, wait...no. No, none of that. He just wanted to see her.

To his utter annoyance, one of the other students lingered after class, asking ridiculously stupid questions about some of the materials and throwing an oversized wrench into his plans.

Ok, maybe the questions weren't stupid.

It was just that he had much more important things to tend to.

She exited, heading to her next class before he got a chance to talk to her.

He finished up the last class of the day and contemplated, for about a millisecond, to stop by her house. He obviously knew where she lived, but if he showed up there, unannounced, uninvited, in the middle of the afternoon, she would definitely consider him a stalker, for real this time, and be well within her rights to do so. He might be slightly obsessed with her, but he was _not_ going to go by her house. Not. No no no.

Rather, he decided to stay put, using the piano in the music room to work on his latest song. He usually went home or to a friend's nearby recording studio straight from work, but lately he had found that a lot of his inspiration came to him at the school.

Maybe because there, he was constantly reminded of her.

He knew the principal wouldn't mind, he had already been given permission when he was hired, along with his own set of keys to close up, as he was in charge of the school choir and they practiced late one afternoon per week.

A couple of hours later, finally pleased with the progress he had made, he walked out into the hallway, preoccupied as he disappointingly tried to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to be able to wish her a happy birthday.

He turned around and literally ran into her.

He knocked her down, flat on the ground, her full party-planning folder slipping out of her hand and the papers flying like emigrating birds throughout the empty hallway. After the initial shock, the both broke out into laughter, as he helped her pick up the scattered sheets of paper, still in giggles until their eyes interlocked and he kissed her, the giggles slowly replaced by low, out-of-breath moans.

He broke away, needing to complete his still unfinished mission of the day.

"Happy birthday, Ally."

She absolutely adored the way he said her name, a lethal combination of sweet tenderness and raw sexual need. It made her shiver.

He noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. She was so..._amazing_. He promised himself that one day, he was going to _try_ to talk to her without picturing her naked. It seemed to be utterly and humanly impossible. He was pretty sure that _straight_ females were regularly picturing her naked as well.

Newest resolution - at some point, he was going to get through one full conversation with her without letting the need to touch her take over.

Not today, though. Definitely not today.

He kissed her again because he could not _not_ do so, the giggles now noticeably absent as their current activity was decidedly not a laughing matter.

She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and shit, was he hot.

She knew she shouldn't be with him. For so many reasons. It's just, she couldn't recall any of them right now, as his kisses replaced said reasons with extreme amounts of hornyness, until there was nothing but pure desire left.

She suddenly realized that she was pushed up against the hallway wall, his body pressing into hers in all the wrong yet so so right places while her hand was twisting and pulling his hair intermittently.

She wasn't sure of whether they were the only ones left at the school.

She moved, pulling him into the nearest classroom, which just so happened to be his, tongue wrestling and soon making their way over to his desk, continuing what they had started Saturday night.

Or more accurately, a month ago.

A month long foreplay that soon was finally cumming to an end.

He removed her shirt, leaving her in her bra. His hand had somehow found its way under her skirt, to the inside of her thigh, rubbing her skin in small circles, slowly approaching its final destination.

He stopped her as she reached for his pants.

She pouted. "There is only one thing I want for my birthday."

He smirked. "Really now, and whats that?"

"Your dick."

"I need to give you my other birthday gift first."

He pushed her down, flat on her back on his desk, removing her underwear and situating himself between her spread-wide legs, continuing to rub her as he kissed his way down her body, licking along the waistband of her skirt before lifting it up, dropping to his knees and running his tongue over her soaked folds and finally getting to taste her again in delicious mouthfuls.

She was biting her knuckles to stifle her moans.

She knew he was a good singer. He was clearly orally talented in more ways than one.

Her back was arching off of the hard wood as she gave in to the pleasure of his expertized mouth, the rhythm of his licks gradually speeding up until she couldn't hold back anymore. She came, hard, as he rose and quickly unzipped his pants, pushing himself into her in one quick thrust.

Her pussy was an ocean.

A tight, pulsating, all-consuming ocean with orgasmic waves. She screamed as he filled her, squeezing him tight as he mercilessly fucked her into adulthood, one deep thrust after another, effectively ending the most difficult stint in rehab that he had ever had to endure and yet, he was far from recovered as he knew he was going to crave another fix of her immediately.

They moved in unison, her hips rising to meet his every thrust until he came, too soon for his liking, groaningly, giving her the best gift she had received all day, knowing that he would never be able to look at that desk the same.

She stood up and began to get dressed with a hard-to-read expression on her face.

"So, I guess we're done here, right?" Her voice sounded weird.  
He wasn't sure if she meant for the day or for forever. It really didn't matter as he was not in agreement with either or, and the answer remained the same.

No.

He approached her, embracing her from behind before she finished putting on her clothes, whispering low in her ear. "We're nowhere _close_ to done. We have a month worth of fucking to make up for.", his cock hardening against her back as if to emphasize his point.

He grabbed her and instantly slammed her up against the whiteboard. "First the desk, then the whiteboard, remember?"

He entered her from behind this time, one thrust and he was back in his own personal Utopia. He knew he was going to last a minute, at max, as her ass was rubbing up against him in the most tantalizing way while his dick was buried deep in her pussy. He clenched his teeth, bit his lips, tried to count to a hundred to distract himself, but nothing worked.

There was no way he was going to last.

He reached around her, massaging her clit in fast circles until they quickly came undone together.

She got dressed, quietly.

"So, I guess I see you around..."She turned around to leave, and he stopped her.

"What's wrong?", the confusion evident in his voice.  
"Nothing. This is what you wanted, right? Fuck me again to finally get me out of your system."

He was _still_ to horny to really process what she was saying. She thought he was going to _forget_ her by sleeping with her? If that had been the plan, it definitely backfired.

He had absolutely no fucking intention of _not_ being with her.

Again and again.

"What?" He still sounded confused.  
"Fuck me then forget me?" She was giving him an easy out, knowing that she wanted more but terrified of humiliation.  
"I...no. That's not what I want."  
"Oh..." He detected genuine surprise in her voice.

What the fuck? What did she really think of him?

He thought for a second, a smile soon lightening up his already too handsome features.

"Go on a date with me", pleadingly as he knew she would resist.

"We can't, you know we can't".

"I'll take you somewhere secluded, nobody we know will be around. This Saturday."

She shook her head. "I'm having my birthday party this weekend".

"Ok, then next weekend. A private, belated birthday celebration."

She smiled, nodded yes, and he sweetly kissed her goodbye.

_

She laid in her bed at night, a warm feeling engulfing her. It had been one of her best birthdays ever.  
She couldn't erase him from her mind. He was so..._him_. There were no words accurate enough to describe him. The way he absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, the way his eyes sparkled in music class, those dimples that she had been fortunate enough to experience up close...

But tonight, for once, her fantasies weren't just about him fucking her breathless. Her mind wandered to other things, dates, going to the movies, strolling in the park holding hands...

Oh oh.

No no no no no.

She was starting to fall for him.

Really fall for him.

Shit with crap on top.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N; Party time!**

**I recently joined twitter, follow me if you want. I have no talents, such as making edits or gifs or anything else that most other people in this amazing fandom can do. **

**But hey, we can discuss story ideas or the weather (= fridaf0612.**

She was yawning, both from ever-looming boredom and lack of sleep.

This wasn't _his_ class, which in and out of itself automatically made it boring. Add the excruciating tediousness of the subject at hand, whatever subject it was, and it was downright unbearable.

He had been part of her daydreaming fantasies for quite some time. Now, however, he was also part of her actual dreams. Lately, she had been losing sleep, dreaming of all the things that they could be.

Their birthday celebration a few days ago was still _very_ fresh in her mind. For the first time ever, she felt herself craving sex. Not merely wanting it, but needing it. In a not-being-able-to-think-of-anything-else sort of way.

She guessed this must be what it was like to be a teenage boy.

She was frustrated, to say the least, by her 'feelings' for him. He made her happy, her entire day always made just by seeing him. She loved the way he towered over her and made her feel protected yet coveted...she couldn't have enough of it. Of him.

It wasn't love, though. That, she was sure of. She wasn't even sure she really believed in it. Lust, absolutely. That, she had clearly experienced first hand. But she was yet to see a long-term couple who seemed genuinely happy together. And just look at her parents. They had been the perfect match, and it still did t work out. If they couldn't make it work, who could?

She had decide to sign up for choir. She loved music, loved loved loved it, but she was irrationally scared of singing in front of anyone, as she suffered from, as it seemed, incurable stage freight. But this was singing in a group. That she could handle. And it would give her yet another excuse not to work at her dad's store. She wanted to help him, she really did, and she periodically enjoyed the music store, but most of the time she was bored out of her mind while she was there.  
And she would be lying if she said that having found out who was leading said choir didn't influence her decision at all.

She yawned again, this time not even mustering up the strength to try to hide it.  
Suddenly, God was in the doorway. Funny, she had never pictured him so blond before.

"Ally Dawson? You're needed in the principal's office."

She loved the way her name came out of his mouth. It did things to her. Like making her heart speed up. And making other places pulsate. And soak.

She didn't love her last name. She wouldn't mind changing it some day. She had no idea to what, though. It wasn't as if she had been doodling an alternate name in her notebook during the last math class, like some lovestruck first-grader.

Ally Moon.

Over and over.

Nope. Not her. It must have been someone else.

But wait a minute...Huh? She had never been called to the principal's office before.

"Why?"

He shrugged, casually. "I'm just the messenger."

They walked side by side, and she fought the urge to molest him in the open hallway. Shit, she really needed to get her hormones under control.

He was walking fast, she was struggling with keeping up.

"What's the emergency?"

He pushed her into the girl's bathroom in one quick movement, catching her off guard and almost knocking the air out of her. His mouth was on hers, inadvertently keeping her from asking any further questions as her tongue responded to his as if acting by pure instinct.

He pushed her backwards, lifting her up onto the sink bench, his tall body probing her legs wide apart, pressing his aching cock against her underwear and letting her know exactly what the emergency was.

His mouth was needy, acute, as he was in dire need to feel her insides rubbing up against him. She didn't have a single objection.

He didn't break away from her as he ripped of her underwear, sticking a finger into her quickly, as he knew they were short on time. Class was going to finish up in a few minutes.

She reached to unbutton his pants, but he impatiently interrupted her as she was too slow for his liking, unzipping his pants on his own so quickly that he almost broke the zipper.

He pulled her towards him, letting her ass balance just off of the counter as he easily pushed his length into her, suppressing his screams as he realized that they were currently fucking in the girls restroom. At school. During school hours. Well within hearing distance from anyone possibly walking by outside.

Holy.

She was squeezing her eyes shot in pleasure, unable to focus on anything but him moving in her. "Look at me fucking you", his demand spiked with raspy need, and she complied, looking down to see his cock rapidly moving in and out, hard and rough and heavenly, as he pulled her hair to the side to expose her neck, nibbling on her sensitive skin in quick bites as if she was his slightly delayed morning breakfast.

He continued to hammer her, _his_ tool stiff and needy until he unexpectedly lifted her, moving them into one of the stalls, slamming her up against the wall as he propped her up against it with his body and pushing himself right back in to her tightness. He pounced, soon rubbing her in quick strokes, letting go when he felt her cum undone around him, no longer caring if anyone could hear as he growled out her name in short breaths between almost desperate thrusts.

She definitely wasn't bored with school anymore.

She knew she shouldn't.

But she was going to anyways.

Have a party, that is.

You only turn 18 once.

At least that's what Trish said when she convinced her, completely without resorting to threats of violence.

Or maybe the complete opposite was true.

Was it normal to be scared of your best friend?

Her dad was away at yet another conference. Ever since he had divorced her mom, he had been gradually approaching workaholic status, and she barely saw him anymore.

He had allowed for her to have a small party. He only had one instruction. No boys. It was amazing to her how he still believed she was a little kid, yet allowed her to stay home by herself for days on end. She guessed he trusted her.  
He should know better.

If he only _knew_ how she had spent her actual birthday, spread eagle on her teacher's desk as he was penetrating her in deep thrusts with his amazing dick.

Oh, the memories.

So, naturally, she had done what any good daughter would do.

She had invited everyone. Well, Trish had. And everyone would come. She was popular, after all.

She had a difficult time feeling excited about it, as there was only one person she cared for to attend and he wasn't invited as he decidedly wasn't a high school student. She had contemplated possible ways to somehow include him, but coming up short of a solution. It would look extremely odd, to everyone, if their math teacher attended a high school party at her house.

Trish had promised to take care of everything, and for once, she had actually come through. As she scanned the room, she realized that there were more than enough alcoholic drinks and snacks, and the music was already blasting from the speakers that Trish had set up.

A few hours into the party, and everything she had predicted had already happened. A few broken items, a few people suffering from bouts of alcohol-induced sickness, a few sloppy, not so subtle proposals from various boys to hook up. Other than that, things were running smoothly. Elliot had gotten the hint that she wasn't interested fairly early on in the evening, and now, she was having fun, her mind only drifting off to _him_ every few minutes.

She went to grab her phone to take some pictures when a message from a to her unknown number popped up.

"Come outside".

Her heart sped up as she knew exactly who she was hoping the message was from. She exited, hesitantly in case her hunch would be proven incorrect. But it wasn't.

He was dressed in a distressed leather jacket and his hair disheveled, probably from the wind running through it. He was casually leaning up against a motorcycle, as if he had been waiting for her semi-impatiently for quite a while.  
Holy smokes was he pure joy to look at.

"Nice bike." And body. And smile.

He shrugged. "I have a generous father." It had been a bribe, he had known so when accepting it, but he loved it and didn't have the heart to give it up although his conscious often reminded him that he should.

"How did you get my number?" Why did she sound so nervous?

"Choir sign-up sheet. You have no idea how nice it is to have new students join us", a seductive smile on his face. He already knew he could make her sing. In all sorts of ways. For all sorts of reasons.

She was standing a few feet away from him, hesitantly, a little buzzed from the few beers she had had but not drunk enough to let go of all her inhibitions completely. She wasn't sure if she should hug him, or kiss him, or not touch him at all. She wasn't educated in the proper manners of how to interact with a man who she had no idea what to label and whose effect on her confused her to no end.

He remedied the issue by approaching her, pulling her into a deep kiss, not seeming to care that her neighbors or anybody walking by could clearly see. A minute later, and she didn't care anymore either, as they were slowly making out, exploring each other's mouths as if time was of no essence and as if they had all soon realized she didn't. "I have to get back", knowing that leaving Trish in charge wasn't going to end well.

"What if I just kidnap you?", his arms around her, restraining her, his body heat making her feel feverish.

Oh, she wanted him kidnap her. Tie her up, even.

An idea formed in her head.

"Come to the back door in 5 minutes".

The music was still beating, Trish was nowhere to be found and a few people were already dozing off on the living room couches.

She checked to make sure that the back small hallway was empty, before cracking the door open and allowing him to sneak in, taking a few quick steps to reach the nearby staircase leading up to the second floor.

They rushed upstairs, her opening the door to her bedroom, only to reveal the eye-burning image of Dallas drunkenly fucking a sophomore in her bed. They didn't even notice that the door had opened.

Nice. She hadn't even invited any sophomores.

Good thing she had been thinking of getting new sheets anyways.

The bathroom door was locked. She didn't even wanted to know why.

That only left one room.

She knew she shouldn't. But she felt something so right doing the wrong things.

She had locked it, as she didn't want anyone to roam through it.

But this was a crisis.

She reached for and found the key hidden on top of the door ledge, pushing him inside and barely locking the door before they were back to brutally making out, undressing each other with the speed of racing bulls, _his_ horn poking her leg as he walked them backwards towards the bed. She fell down on it, him immediately on top of her, inside of her, soon pounding her to the rhythm of the blastingly loud music ringing out from the speakers downstairs, fucking her breathless on her father's bed as her classmates partied on downstairs.

She couldn't believe what they were doing but crap was it amazing, she simply couldn't have enough. She was squeezing him tight, her legs wrapped around his waist, his thrusts growing increasingly faster as he was clearly approaching his release, loudly, their moans and groans drowned by the noise of the loud music, until she came blissfully, allowing him to immediately follow suit.

He kissed her tenderly before exiting, sneaking out through the back door before anyone could see him.

Man, had it been a good party.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N; I hope you guys like this chapter. Enjoy. **

She twirled around, impatiently, trying to get a good look of her own ass in her bedroom wall mirror, an expression of frustration on her face as she wasn't entirely pleased with her reflection. Crap. She had already changed a _few_ times. She knew by experience that she could turn him on wearing her ugly uniform, so she really shouldn't be this worried about her outfit.

But she changed, again.

Oh God, why was she such an neurotic mess?

She finally settled on a simple dress. It couldn't be anything too fancy as her alibi of spending the night at Trish's house would without a doubt be questioned if she left too dressed up. Her father was, for once, home over the weekend and when he was around, he was generally more observant than a hawk. She had absolutely no idea where they were going, he was picking her up from the nearby gas station to avoid any run-in and possible confrontation with said hawk.

...

He had been wanting to take his bike, but as the restaurant he had picked was fairly far, and as he wasn't entirely sure of how she would feel about a bike ride, he settled on his car.

He already knew that he would have to work hard to keep himself from fucking her in the backseat.

Tonight was going to be the night. He was going to have a full conversation with her.

He drove towards their meeting point, anxiously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He was nervous. That was odd.

He couldn't really recall ever being nervous before a date before.

Huh.

...

He got there before her, waiting for a few eternal, restless minutes before she showed up, then stepping out of the car to open the door for her and she smiled as she noticed how he, subtly yet noticeably, readjusted his pants when he saw her.

Obviously, her reservations in regards to her outfit had been completely unfounded.

He kissed her, softly at first, her back gently pressing into the side of the car as the kiss lasted a few seconds too long, bordering onto make-out territory rather than a quick hello. She really didn't mind. At all.

He broke away, knowing that if they kept on, it would be close to impossible for him to contain himself and the 20 minute car drive would become hundreds of times more torturous than what he was already anticipating.

"Let's go, I'm starving", and for once, he was partially talking about actual food.

...

The restaurant was cute, the place small and quaint, the square tables decorated with long tablecloths that were almost grazing the floor. The table-top candle lights filled the otherwise almost darkened room with a dim, and no-doubt, romantic light. The not too many tables were fairly spread out, distant enough that conversations from other guests became part of the background noise, a half-wall separating the space into two, adding to the feel of intimacy.

They were seated at a small table in a fairly dark corner.

He could tell that she was nervous as well, as she was fidgeting with the silverware and avoiding his gaze, blushing slightly whenever their eyes met. It was cute, and somehow tremendously reduced his _own_ nervousness.

He got the conversation started by asking her a few questions this and that, and it didn't take long before they were talking like long lost friends. Or maybe more like long lost friends with benefits.

The topic of conversation ranged from trivial to highly personal, him actually sharing some details about his, to say the least, complicated relationship with his father, her sharing how much she missed her mom.

They soon moved on into music and he almost choked on his pasta when she reluctantly, shyly, admitted that she aspired to be a singer or a songwriter. He was nearly speechless as he realized that they had the same dream. She confessed that she was terrified of performing, and he decided then and there that he was going to change that, silently accepting the unspoken challenge of finding a way for her to one day be able to get rid of her inhibiting stage fright.

He found himself engrossed in their conversation, reveling in how interesting she was. And smart. And fantastic.

He had spent almost the entire meal without picturing her naked.

Him 1 - Questionable self-control 0.

Although, by the way the candle light shadows danced on her skin in combination with the lower-lip-nibbling session that she was currently engaged in, he had a feeling that the score would be evened out sooner than later.

The main dish was devoured, the drinks almost finished, both of them having a spectacular time, when she glanced towards the door and froze as her eyes landed on a familiar figure entering their apparently not so secret dating spot.

Cassidy.

Crap.

Her eyes darted back to his with a panicked expression, him looking around and soon identifying the reason behind her sudden mood change.

He reacted reflexively and did the only thing he could think of. He dove in under the table, hidden away under the long table cloth, his shoulders rubbing up against her legs in the limited space.

Hell.

Just what he needed.

Body contact.

He became acutely aware that her pussy was right there, practically in his face, and as if someone pulled the plug from the self-control bathtub, every single drop washed down the drain.

_She_ was silently praying that she wouldn't see her, but apparently, God was taking an early evening nap as the blonde started making her way over towards the table.

"Oh my god, Ally, what are you doing here?"

She blanked. Cassidy wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, could she get away with pretending that she was there by herself?

No, damn it, there were two plates of half eaten food on the table. And two half-finished drinks.

As she was thinking, she felt him probe her knees apart. What was he doing?

"I'm here with"..._think_ Ally, _think_..."my..._brother_", the last word coming out as a whimper as someone, decidedly not the brother she in reality didn't have, was rubbing her clit through her underwear under the table.

She could almost see the too few wheels in Cassidy's head turning, as this was clearly a place for lovers and not the location for catching up with family members.

"Oh, where is he?"

"The bathroom".

She almost held her breath, both in hope that she would believe the lame explanation and to contain her moans as he had now moved her underwear to the side and replaced his finger with his wet tongue.

Cassidy shrugged, as if she didn't need or cared for any further explanations.

"Isn't this place great? The food is so good."

"Yeeees, I love it." Not talking about the food.

"And the service is amazing".

"Yeees". Not talking about the service.

The blonde gave her an odd facial expression.

"Ok, I'm meeting someone here, got to go. Enjoy your dinner."

Oh, she was enjoying it, alright.

Her legs and lower body were twitching uncontrollably as Cassidy walked away towards her awaiting company on the other side of the half wall.

She was holding onto the chair for dear life to keep her upper body as still as humanly possible, her back arching almost unnoticeably off the back of it as he ate her out from under the table, plunging his tongue repeatedly into her, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, almost drawing blood, grateful that the restaurant management had made the somewhat questionable decision to use such long table cloths.

His tongue moved to her clit, his fingers now pumping her at a steady pace as she came hard, amazingly, quietly while internally screaming at the top of her lungs.

She had never worked so hard to stay still and quiet in her life, and while she wasn't entirely successful she was relieved to se that no one seemed to be looking her way.

He reappeared and sat back in his chair, slowly licking his fingers clean from her juices with a suggestive smirk on his face, immediately calling the waiter over to ask for the check as he needed to get her out of there and dessert had been rendered unnecessary as her taste was still lingering on his lips.

They snuck out, unseen.

Damn, that had been one delicious dinner.

...

He was driving her home, fisting the wheel as he was sporting a record hard-on, half-way there when he made up his mind.

"Sleep at my place tonight", his voice not questioning but demanding.

She nodded, fully aware that she wouldn't be sleeping, pulling out her phone to let her dad know she would be spending the night at Trish's.

...

They had just entered his apartment, heavily making out up against the hallway wall, when he pulled away and walked them into the kitchen.

"Wait, I have a birthday dessert for you", walking towards the refrigerator and bringing out a frosted cupcake.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Had you been expecting me to come back here with you?"

He shook his head.

"So you just happen to have cupcakes laying around?"

"No, but there is a difference between expecting and hoping."

He fumbled around in one of the kitchen drawers, finding a lighter to lit the one candle situated in the middle of the cupcake, before signing her happy birthday in that amazingly talented voice of his, her smiling as she concluded that the sweetness of the man in front of her by far exceeded the flavor of the cupcake.

She blew the candle, made a wish, then sticking her finger into the frosting and wiping it off on his neck, licking him clean in a few, slow strokes.

He groaned loudly as he had been waited to feel her touch on him all night. He followed, dipping his finger in the frosting, her grabbing his hand and sucking it clean while moaning appreciatively at the sweet taste.

All of a sudden, _he_ wasn't so sweet anymore. Incredibly horny was a much better description.

They took turns licking the rest of the frosting off of each other, and before she had the chance to take a bite of the actual cupcake, he had her back pinned to the fridge. He was about to take her up against it when the lock of the front door turned, signaling the arrival of his roommate. He lifted her, entering his bedroom and slamming the door shot in a matter of seconds, before Dez caught a glimpse of them.

Before she knew it, they were both completely naked, on his bed, him on top of her and soon pushing his cock into her, as he made her recently made birthday wish come true by fucking her hard, rough and thoroughly, his lips buried in her neck, the last remainder of the frosting tickling his tongue in an enticing blend of vanilla and the taste of her skin.

They seemed to be in quiet understanding that this session would be anything but, as her moans were already loud enough to hear from the other side of the apartment, and the noises coming out of his throat matching and perhaps, probably, surpassing hers.

She was so incredibly turned on, each thrust contributing to her ever increasing wetness, the sensations elicited by his cock so intense that it was impossible _not_ to scream.

He knew that Dez could her them and he didn't give a shit.

She pulled on his hair, her teeth digging into his shoulder as he made her cum, her chanting his name in joyful repetitions as he pumped her quivering pussy full to the brim.

...

He held her tight as she exhaustedly drifted off.

He kissed her, softly.

"Good night. And please don't sneak out tomorrow morning."

"I won't, I promise", the smile apparent in her voice.

It had been a good first date.


End file.
